


Build With Me a Thousand Memories

by crazyparakiss



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, M/M, Past-Implied Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3148658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyparakiss/pseuds/crazyparakiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis doesn't know this man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Build With Me a Thousand Memories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinky_kneazle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinky_kneazle/gifts).



> Written for the HP Rarepairs fest on livejournal in 2012, and the gift to a wonderful friend for her bday. She kinda was and always will be my Teddy/Louis muse. <3 my Kneazly.

The room is heavily scented with astringent and Louis feels disoriented when he tries to stand. Large hands support him and he glances up as he weakly stumbles against the arms around him. The eyes aren’t familiar—a range of colours flecking together to make some sort of intoxicating hazel. A gentle smile is given to him and Louis feels something in his stomach—an uncomfortable lurch as if this is a private expression meant for someone else. Because a stranger most certainly shouldn’t gaze at him in such an intimate manner.   
  
“Here, let me help you to the loo,” he says kindly to Louis and the uncomfortable feeling returns.   
  
“I can go there myself,” Louis snaps.   
  
The man pauses and regards him with a wounded expression, “You’re sure? You seem rather unsteady.”   
  
Louis shoves him and his legs fail him, but this stranger never lets go—holding him steadily.   
  
“Where’s my dad? My mum?” He panics as he tries to get away from the man holding him. “I don’t know you!”   
  
More hurt settles over the handsome face, “Louis-,” the man tries.   
  
But he cuts him off, “Don’t speak to me!” An alarm sounds in the distance—BEEP, BEEP, BEEP—and Louis is feeling faint when the Healers rush in, amidst a whirl of lime green robes and shouts. He’s sedated with a foul tasting potion and over the chaos he hears a worried voice yelling his name.   
  
When he comes to, his father and mother are sitting beside his hard bed. “Mum,” he croaks—voice horse and raw—as he reaches out his hand for her.   
  
“We were so worried,” his dad says when words fail his mother, and all she does is cry.   
  
He looks upon his father with tired eyes and finally asks, “What’s happened to me?”   
  
They exchange a glance—that mutual language that comes from years of sharing dreams, a life. Finally his father takes his hand and it makes him worried when the man swallows, “What do you remember?”   
  
“I-,” he has to stop, because beyond Hogwarts he doesn’t remember much of anything.   
  
“Leaving school?” He ventures slowly with a question in his tone.   
  
Mum sucks in a shuddering breath and sobs harder. Dad places a hand on her shoulder and she turns into his chest—crying against his shirt as if the world has ended.   
  
Dad swallows, “It’s been 15 years since then, Louis—you’re 32.”   
  
He’s horrified, “What?” When he observes their faces he realises they are quite a bit older than he remembers. “What happened?”   
  
His dad looks shaken, “There was an accident—you were with George and Freddie, an explosion happened due to an experiment gone awry and-,” he stops to swallow once more. “You weren’t able to get out in time—the building’s roof came down on you—you’ve been asleep for a little over a month.”   
  
“A month,” Louis breathes.   
  
The man he doesn’t know walks into the room and his dad nods to him as if they are good chums—waving him closer. “What’s he doing here,” Louis demands while taking note of the man’s vibrant turquoise hair.   
  
His parents read each other silently, once more, and then glance to the man beside them—he’s looking as hurt as he was the day before. “This is Teddy—he’s your husband,” his mother ventures tentatively.   
  
Teddy, Teddy, Teddy—why does that name ring a bell he wonders. Teddy’s hand covers his while he thinks and on instinct Louis jerks his hand away. Teddy visibly winces and Louis almost feels ashamed.   
  


***

  
  
When he’s released, his parents offer to take him to Teddy’s—he refuses to go. His father sighs, “Louis, you’ve got to go home. The Healers believe if you are in a familiar environment you will regain memory faster.”   
  
“I don’t want to,” he seethes. “I don’t know that man—you can’t expect me to go live with a stranger.”   
  
They still Apparate him to the home he shares with Teddy. It’s a quaint cottage, by the sea, on the Isle of Wight. The smell of the ocean is heavy on the wind while they wait for Teddy. Louis can hear his loud scrambling—he sounds as if he’s bumping into every piece of furniture they own on his way to the door.   
  
When it’s open Teddy’s eyes are immediately drawn to Louis and there is something simmering just below the surface of his blank expression—something very alive and frightening in his eyes. The expressive dance of colour in his irises makes Louis’ skin itch and he looks away, hoping the awkwardness of the situation will evaporate on its own.   
  
He has no such luck. Teddy follows him as he walks across the hand-scraped wooden boards that make up the flooring. His eyes wander the frames covering the pale blue walls of the corridor—lingering on the little boy with changing hair. “Who is this,” he inquires—and turns his attention away from the many frames to direct the question at Teddy.   
  
Shifting uncomfortably, Teddy rubs at the back of his neck and looks at a spot just behind Louis’ ear. He’s avoiding speaking, Louis can tell and he wants to start demanding but he is saved the trouble when Teddy finally whispers. “That’s Finneus. We call him Finn.” Louis doesn’t quite understand, but Teddy elaborates, “He’s our son.”   
  
Louis sucks in a breath and looks back to the many frames—frames full of a life he cannot remember creating. “Our son?”   
  
“Yeah,” Teddy says, moving to stand beside Louis—far enough away so as not to spook him but close enough to give Teddy the solace he craves. “He’s just five last month.”   
  
Louis feels guilty—which is ridiculous as he cannot help what happened—and so he says, “I’m sorry I missed his birthday.”   
  
Teddy sighs, “I am glad it was just the one.”   
  


***

  
  
His parents leave him there and he’s terrified out of his mind when the Floo roars green, then they are gone. Just he and this stranger alone in a home they share. He’s afraid to make a sound—afraid if he speaks the floods will come.   
  
The boy, _their son_ , doesn’t come home that night. Teddy waves Louis in the direction of the bedroom and makes up the sofa for himself.   
  
Louis feels awkward sleeping in a bed he’s made love in countless times—knowing he and Teddy shared with this mattress thousands of memories and he cannot recall a one. It smells of his companion—of man, soap, and brine.   
  
He sleeps restlessly despite the comfort of the bed and leaves its warmth before dawn. Going out onto the darkened shore of the beach, he wriggles his bare toes in the cool wet sand. A shiver passes over his body as he settles against a large piece of driftwood. The waves are a calming lull; he watches them crash against the shore. He shivers again. Louis has been denied the use of magic until his results or his memory returns—whichever comes first. They’re afraid he’ll have an episode of some sort.   
  
The lids of his eyes are heavy and are slipping closed when Teddy ‘s hand on his shoulder brings him back to wakefulness.   
  
“What are you doing?”   
  
Louis looks up at where he looms over—concern written in his face—and says, “I couldn’t sleep.”   
  
Teddy seems to understand, “Neither could I.”   
  
“Is this going to be okay?” Louis wonders aloud when the silence stretches between them—continuing long after the sun has risen.   
  
“I fucking hope so,” Teddy replies, “Or else what have I been praying for?”   
  
“What was I like?” Louis asks.   
  
It seems to Louis as if he’ll ignore the question when long minutes pass them with only the crash of the sea speaking. But he realises Teddy is carefully weighing his answer when finally speaks, “You were—wonderful.” Louis snorts and Teddy says, “No really.” He rests his chin on his hands and stares at the choppy surface of the dark waters before them. “You were outgoing, adventurous, loud, opinionated, spoilt, and so much more.”   
  
Rolling his eyes Louis speaks, “Not all of those things are wonderful.”   
  
Teddy’s expression darkens, “They are to me.”   
  
“What if I’m not that person you remember?”   
  
Teddy doesn’t answer—he stands, brushing the sand off his bum, and heads back to the house.   
  


***

  
  
It is a week more before Finn comes home from his “holiday” with Ginny and Harry. He’s a bright eyed, boisterous, and curious child. It’s heartbreaking for Louis to meet him. Teddy’s been telling him all kinds of stuff about Finn for the week they’ve been alone.  _His favourite colour is yellow. He tries to put catsup on everything. He has a fascination with fish and frogs. His favourite book is “The Tales of Malenda the Witch: School is Hard Enough without Bossy Teachers”. He never goes to bed without his stuffed dog—Buck , no I’m not kidding. He doesn’t like to brush his teeth. He hates going into the Muggle world because it’s hard for him to control his shifting. Al’s his favourite uncle because he lets him do all kinds of awful things, and James isn’t much better._    
  
There is so much more but Louis is having a hard time keeping up.   
  
Sadly children are a lot more difficult to fool than people believe. It’s less than an hour before Finn has him figured out. “That is not my papa!” Teddy looks terribly lost and damaged when the boy curls his arms around Teddy’s neck and begins to wail, “Where is my papa, where is he, Dad?”   
  
“He’s here—right there.”   
  
Louis doesn’t know how to feel when Finn glares at him—he has Louis’ face, Teddy’s colouring, and a personality all his own, but Louis doesn’t know this boy and he’s afraid he never will know him like the papa side of him had.   
  
“He’s not my papa,” Finn whispers, again and again. “I want my papa.”   
  


***

  
  
Teddy catches Louis looking through their photo albums a little over a month later. He’s got a glass of wine on the table beside him and is pouring through the pages—looking at a Louis he doesn’t recognise.   
  
“I look happy,” he says suddenly—Teddy pauses by the cloak closet and stares at Louis’ casually perched form.   
  
“You are—I mean—were happy,” Teddy replies. “We were so happy.” It sounds so choked and Louis closes the album, running his hands over its soft green cover.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I’m not the same.”   
  
Teddy doesn’t respond. He moves to the kitchen—making food for his whole family, the one that feels terribly broken.   
  


***

  
  
They have a date. It is his father’s idea, “Go out—have fun—fall in love again.”   
  
It sounds stupid to Louis, but he goes because he feels he owes Teddy something—and perhaps he owes it to himself. Teddy’s fit, and nice, and soft spoken, and honest—he’s everything Louis has ever wanted but he’s so wrapped up loving someone else—another version of Louis—he can never be what Louis wants. And, God isn’t that depressing.   
  
“Tell me about him,” Louis says. And Teddy looks up from his shrimp cocktail with a questioning glance. “He’s not here anymore—and I want to know about him.” He fiddles with the silver fork in his hand, and stares at the flicker of light, from their table’s candle on the tines.   
  
Teddy rubs at the back of his neck, an uncomfortable expression on his face as he says, “This is too fucking weird—I won’t talk about you as if you’re dead.”   
  
“Well I’m not me, am I?” Louis counters, in a tone that implies he thinks Teddy is thick, “That me may never return—I want to know who you fell in love with—because you obviously aren’t in love with me. You’re in love with a ghost.”   
  
Teddy’s jaw tightens. “He liked to dance. He liked swimming naked in the ocean. He made me breakfast in bed and I’d pretend to sleep in while he bumbled around the kitchen until the preparations were complete. He liked to take baths rather than showers, and didn’t believe in wearing pants and on the occasions he did, he refused to wear trousers. He enjoyed painting with Finn, reading to him, teaching him new things and it always depressed him when he realised how much our boy had grown. He liked when I fucked him slow, for hours. He liked being bit on the inside of his thigh and loved it when I called him mine. He hated scented candles and wasn’t fond of the drapes his mother insisted on purchasing for us. He couldn’t drive a car and he hated riding brooms. He never talked about the future, and he never wanted to speak of the past—Louis always lived in the now. He always said I was the missing half of his soul—and I’ve always known he was the missing half of mine.”   
  
Teddy has an annoyed frown and he’s got a rude tone when he speaks, “Does that help you at all?”   
  
Louis breathes out, “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” He stares at Teddy with an honestly confused expression, “How can you love someone so much?”   
  
Teddy scowls, “He wasn’t just someone to me—he was my everything.”   
  


***

  
  
He tries holding a paintbrush again—it feels awkward in his hand, but somehow his fingers know the right ways to move and his brain seems to know what colours to use. Soon there are images—lovely and real in shades of blues and greens and whites and greys. Oddly he feels hopeful as he looks at the picture.   
  


***

  
  
Finn joins him in the afternoons—on the floor of the small room Teddy told him was for Old Louis’ work space. In recent days, Finn’s been more open with Louis—talking to him, telling him silly childish stories, and on rare occasion giving Louis hugs.   
  


***

  
  
His parents seem more concerned with “fixing” them than Teddy does—they force them out at least once a week. But the dates are silent and awkward—anything but fun and titillating. Most of their dates end on the seashore in front of their house. Teddy stares across the dark horizon while Louis fidgets at his side.   
  
“This gets harder every day,” Teddy says, at long last. “Expecting to wake up to you, but  _you_  aren’t there any longer. You’re someone I don’t recognise.”   
  


***

  
  
It’s nearly a year later when Teddy stops scowling. In fact, on rare occasions he gifts Louis with small smiles—smiles that aren’t for a stranger Louis but for the Louis he is now.   
  


***

  
  
Teddy’s hand touches his one night while Finn lies half asleep on the rug on the living room floor, his colour quills scattered around his colouring books. “He’s worn out,” Teddy smiles fondly, looking at their son. Louis nods dumbly; he’s having a minor fit inside due to the want Teddy’s causal touch stirs within him.   
  
The large palm of Teddy’s hand radiates warmth up and down Louis’s back before he stands. “Come on,” he says, “Let’s put him to bed.”   
  
Finn makes a small sound of protest when Teddy lifts his slight weight and mumbles, “’m not tired, Dad. Papa, tell him to let me stay up, please.” Teddy shushes him and pats his bright hair as Finn rests his cheek heavily against Teddy’s shoulder. Louis smiles after their son, because now he is Louis’s too—anymore to Finn Other Louis doesn’t exist, just the Louis Finn has now.   
  
Louis follows them slowly, and watches from Finn’s doorway as Teddy tucks the tired child beneath his dark blue duvet with glittering fish swimming across the fabric after glowing squids and shimmering jelly fish. “I love you, Son,” Teddy whispers against Finn’s hair, but Louis can tell he’s too far gone in sleep to have heard.   
  
Tonight as Teddy strips down for bed things are different. Louis is aware and stares, though he tries hard not to and averts his eyes when Teddy turns. He feels ridiculous for being flustered—Louis has seen Teddy nude countless times, but something has awoken in Louis’s veins and he’s aware of Teddy’s nudity now.   
  
Swallowing, he looks at all of Teddy’s golden skin, wondering what it tastes like and what scents live in the secret places he has yet to explore. They’ve yet to touch, or be intimate beyond the occasional brushing of hand against hand and the very rare kiss from Teddy to Louis’s temple.   
  
Louis doesn’t avert his eyes fast enough and Teddy notices his gaze. “Louis,” he whispers and Louis can tell Teddy’s sensed the change as well.   
  
“Will,” he starts and wonders if he should feel ashamed—this is someone else’s husband, but Teddy is  _his_  and still it’s odd asking someone he knows so intimately to take his virginity. He’s not a virgin, but he is—he can’t remember giving it away, he can’t recall his first’s name or where he gave his body to another person. Louis isn’t sure if it was a girl or if he’d just gone straight for cock—he imagines he’s only known men, he was almost sure of his preferences at a young age, but perhaps he’d had a moment of curiosity. He may never know. But none of that matters, now, here with Teddy. “Will you touch me, Teddy?”   
  
Louis believes he’s made a mistake when Teddy stares at him, silent and stoic, but then he hears Teddy’s swallow and can see his body shake as he steps closer. “Yes, Louis.”   
  
“Be gentle,” Louis whispers, “I know I’m not a virgin, but as far as I can remember, this is my first time.”   
  
“Oh,” Teddy groans, “Oh fuck.” Then he kisses Louis, deeply—his tongue rediscovers the edges of Louis’s teeth, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. “God, you’re serious?” Teddy says when he pulls back, “You don’t remember anyone?”   
  
“Was I some sort of slag?” Louis wonders while feeling more than a bit horrified. Teddy laughs at his wide-eyed expression.   
  
“For a time, yeah, but it’s never bothered me.”   
  
“Really?”   
  
“Yeah,” Teddy’s voice has gone low, and he’s crawling over Louis, parting Louis’s shirt and ghosting Louis’s skin as he slips the garment from Louis’s shoulders. “You learned all sorts of devious things, made me come in less than five minutes the first time you sucked me off.”   
  
“That’s good I’m supposing?” Louis asks as he arches towards Teddy’s touch.   
  
“Mmm,” Teddy hums while he takes Louis’s earlobe into his mouth, biting down on it and making Louis’s cock throb in his trousers, “And the first time you fucked me, Goddamn Louis, I begged for mercy like a whore in church.”   
  
“Teddy,” he gasps while Teddy’s fingers toy with the hem of his trousers, dipping inside to tickle at the soft, warm skin above his cock.   
  
“And the first time you rode me,” Teddy whispers as he trails wet, open mouth kisses from Louis’s ear to the dip between his collar bones. “Fuck, you made me sit on my hands and told me not to touch you—every little rotation of your hips had me growling and you just kept teasing me. You’ve always been a fucking good tease.” His fingers dig into Louis’ hips as he pulls Louis closer to his nude body. Teddy’s like a fire and Louis is hoping to burn.   
  
“Are you going to exact your revenge by teasing me, Teddy, or are you going to fuck me until I can’t remember my own name?” Teddy stills and Louis wonders if he’s said the wrong thing. Perhaps that wound’s too raw.   
  
Then Teddy’s speaking, voice low and determined with just a hint of lust, “No—I’m going to fuck you until you remember ever dirty little detail of my cock, every innocent place we ruined with our need.”   
  
“Please,” Louis whimpers, “Yes. Please. Now.”   
  
Teddy commands him to his hands and knees and tells him to spread his legs. Louis goes with it, and sucks in a breath when Teddy wiggles his torso and head between his thighs. He uses a hand, pressing Louis closer to his face and Louis draws a sharp breath when Teddy guides the full length of his prick into Teddy’s mouth.   
  
“Oh fuck,” he says as he cants his hips, rocking in and out of Teddy’s welcoming mouth. Louis wonders if he should let Teddy pace things and draws away, but Teddy’s firm hand pushes him back down. Urging him as deep as he can go, nuzzling his nose against Louis’s pubic hair when Louis’s cock is buried in his mouth to the hilt. It’s all the permission Louis needs and he starts fucking Teddy’s mouth in earnest.   
  
When he’s close he begs, “Can I come down your throat, please, Teddy, please?”   
  
The answer is Teddy’s hands on his arse, holding him close so he can only make deep thrusts into Teddy’s mouth and he feels Teddy suck him harder on every plunge. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Louis chants—his eyes rolling back as he stills, spilling come into Teddy’s hot mouth. When he sits back on Teddy’s chest and looks into his face, Louis sees some of his come where it leaked at the corner of Teddy’s mouth and he bucks forward when Teddy laps the come away with his tongue, groaning as if he’s missed the fluid’s taste.   
  
Teddy’s mouth is on the inside of his legs, scraping teeth over Louis’s skin and laving every inch of him with his tongue. “Budge up,” he murmurs at Louis.   
  
Again Louis complies. Teddy rolls him to his stomach and pulls him up so his arse is in the air and easily spread for Teddy’s gaze. There is fumbling in the drawer of the bedside cabinet when Teddy leans over his back to reach in it—rubbing his fat cock against Louis’s arse more than necessary as he retrieves the lube.   
  
Teddy smears his crack with the concoction from the drawer and its fruity smell reaches his nose, “Is that flavoured?”   
  
“Mmhmm,” Teddy hums as he rubs the excess over Louis’s firm arse cheek and then bends to suck the flavour from Louis’s toned flesh. “We love to pour buckets of this shit over ourselves, more excuse to eat every inch of skin for hours.”   
  
“Sounds kinky,” Louis says, trying hard not to blush at the thought of them eating each other for hours. The idea of being eaten out isn’t something he’s ever been thrilled about; that has always seemed too dirty.   
  
But then Teddy’s mouth is on his crack when Teddy spreads his arse cheeks, moaning as he swipes his tongue over the sensitive, normally hidden flesh. “Fuck,” Teddy groans against his arsehole, before sucking on the puckered skin and twirling his tongue across it. “Fuck, I’ve been dreaming of this.” He thrusts his tongue into Louis and Louis presses back against Teddy’s face. Teddy sucks the area of Louis’s arsehole while he tongue fucks him, making Louis shiver with need.   
  
“Wanna fuck you so bad, “ Teddy moans when he moves his fingers to join his tongue, and  _yes_ ,  _this_  is what Louis needs.   
  
“I want your cock,” Louis says, and then with a keen he begs, “I need it, Teddy! Please! I  _need_  you to split me with your cock.”   
  
“Roll over; I want to see your face.”   
  
Louis does and Teddy manoeuvres his back against the tall headboard, while hooking Louis’s legs over his shoulders. His large hands hold the sides of Louis’s stomach, his fingers splayed over Louis’s ribs as he slowly presses in Louis’s body.   
  
They sigh out together.   
  
A slow starting rhythm—Teddy watches his cock as it disappears in and slowly out of Louis’s body, but Louis watches Teddy’s face, turned on by the draw of Teddy’s teeth over his chapped bottom lip as he watches his cock disappear within Louis’s body.   
  
Soon they go faster, Teddy slamming him into the headboard with every harsh thrust, “Fuck, Louis, fuck.”   
  
“Teddy,” he chants, “More.”   
  
“I want to watch you come,” Teddy speaks with a guttural tone as his hand closes around Louis’s cock.   
  
Louis comes for him, coating Teddy’s hand and he lifts it to his mouth—sucking all of the stickiness away, coming as he takes his final taste. It’s one of the most beautiful things Louis has ever seen.   
  


***

  
  
He still doesn’t remember the Teddy from before—not how they met, not where they fell in love, and not the first time Teddy held him, nor their marriage, or the birth of their son. Louis wonders if he’ll ever stop missing those moments he cannot recall. It’s been four years, now, but nothing’s come back and he’s not sure it ever will.   
  
But then Teddy comes in, snow dusting his bright hair and Finn has a wide smile and rosy cheeks—in these moments Louis is fine with only knowing the Teddy of now.   
  
He still has a lifetime to make up thousands of memories, and there will never be another in Teddy’s place. All of his loves begin with Teddy and end with Teddy’s son. This is all Louis needs.   
  


End


End file.
